


Girl Next Door

by fortythousandth



Category: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon (Anime), Sailor Moon - All Media Types
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-21
Updated: 2014-01-21
Packaged: 2018-01-09 11:50:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1145636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fortythousandth/pseuds/fortythousandth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes Michiru catches herself daydreaming about an ordinary life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Girl Next Door

**Author's Note:**

> The time frame here starts somewhere around S and ends sometime before Stars.

I.

Sometimes Michiru catches herself daydreaming about an ordinary life.

She has never been, never will be, never would have been in the first place a normal teenage girl, but there are times when her thoughts will drift and she’ll imagine it, envying the simplicity found in a life containing worries no more significant than accumulating knowledge and getting good grades.

She pictures herself sitting in a classroom, taking notes, shooting sidelong glances across the room at Haruka whenever the instructor’s tangents get too unbearable… Michiru had learned at Mugen that Haruka has a sharp memory that makes her an excellent student, if utterly disinterested in pursuits of academia. Together it had been no challenge to uphold Mugen’s standards, and together it would be no challenge anywhere else.

She thinks of them browsing through old books, heads bent over the pages, inevitably leading to kissing in the darkness of the stacks, pressing Haruka up against the shelves and getting her blazer covered in dust and mastering the fine art of subtly brushing off her back upon resurfacing to the brightness and light of the rest of the world.

After school, she’d wait for Haruka by the fence of the track after finishing up with her music club, or her art club, whichever one seemed more appealing at whatever school they were at. Michiru is secretly a bit nostalgic for the days of Haruka as a star athlete. She’s fond of watching Haruka in motion (not to mention the shorts that runners wear, of course), but there’s still a part of her that longs for a time in which the most dangerous thing Haruka would have to run from was second place.

And even though she knows it’s ridiculous, some part of her wants to court Haruka, and be courted, and she finds herself nostalgic for something she never even had. It seems counterintuitive to prefer a sweaty festival in a gymnasium to the types of parties and galas at which Michiru’s presence is expected on a regular basis, but still she wants it all the same. She wants overly sweet refreshments and tacky decorations and wandering around with Haruka the whole evening, finding little excuses to touch—brushing imaginary lint off a lapel, adjusting a tie that Haruka had probably stolen from her dad, fingers lingering over a shared cup of punch. She could be Michiru, just another girl, Michiru, not _Michiru Kaioh_ with everything that comes along with the weight of her reputation.

And the longer she lingers, the fantasy just seems increasingly absurd.

She and Haruka have so much already. They’re young, and desperately in love, with more money than they know what to do with and fame and unbelievable strength.

But sometimes Michiru just wants to dig her heels into the ground and slow everything down for a moment. She wants to hold Haruka without the omnipresent thought that there’s always going to be some enemy to fight on the horizon. Sometimes she just doesn’t care about destiny, doesn’t think she’d mind throwing it to the wind as long as she could have Haruka. She wants Haruka to herself. She wants Haruka safe and protected.

Michiru wants a lot of things she’ll never get.

II.

Haruka, though, always manages to make everything seem worth it.

There’s a sweetness to Haruka that she never gets enough credit for, although to be fair, so much of the time Haruka actively fights it.

Searching for the talismans took a huge mental toll on both Haruka and Michiru. What Haruka never found out, though was that in Michiru’s case, the fear of having to fulfill their destiny weighed less heavily than having to watch Haruka slowly bury her innocence and optimism and hope, watching Haruka turn into a brutal and battle-hardened soldier.

Destiny? That had been inevitable for Michiru. Watching Haruka follow the exact same path, though…Michiru had never wanted that. She’d tried to make it clear and still Haruka had followed, forced to bury her humanity.

But Haruka could never hide it all, not completely.

Michiru remembers the terrified fourteen year old fumbling through a woefully inadequate racing garage first aid kit, dressing Sailor Neptune’s gashes with trembling fingers, the henshin wand sticking out of the pocket of her red racing suit.

She remembers the first time Neptune ever fought alongside Sailor Uranus, and how two things were immediately evident: one, Uranus was almost terrifyingly powerful, and two, Uranus possessed an equally terrifying, borderline suicidal tendency to throw herself in front of anything threatening Neptune. The next day, she forced Haruka to promise to never, ever, _ever_ put herself in danger for Neptune again.

She remembers on the few occasions when Haruka had to obey, that she could never do it without a moment of hesitation.

She remembers the look on Haruka’s face—because it truly was all Haruka, Uranus had been shoved aside at that point—at the exact moment in the Marine Cathedral that Haruka realized Michiru hadn’t intended to follow through on her half of the promise for one instant.

Michiru doesn’t regret it—without the promise, Haruka would have never survived.

And even though Haruka thought she’d been made impure by their mission, Michiru had always been willing to do what it took to keep Haruka as much out of it as possible. Haruka had chosen to follow her, but if Haruka had made that choice, then Michiru had made a choice of her own: keep Haruka as clean as possible, at all costs.

III.

Michiru kisses Haruka for the first time the evening after the Marine Cathedral. She has no other answer when Haruka stares at her and simply asks her “Why?” There’s no more room for words—just Michiru dipping her head and hoping that she can say everything she needs to say with the press of her lips.

For a split second, Haruka freezes. And then she kisses back almost ferociously, grabbing onto Michiru with a drowning grip, clutching at her shirt, yanking Michiru closer, pressing their bodies together.

Michiru isn’t sure how long it lasts before she feels Haruka shaking beneath her wandering hands, and she pulls back to see teal blue eyes rimmed with tears.

Michiru has had her hands covered in Haruka’s blood. She’s dragged Haruka home from battles gone awry, she’s wrapped countless sprains, she’s given Haruka stitches, but Haruka just…doesn’t cry, period, much less in front of Michiru.

But then she rests her forehead against Michiru’s and takes a deep, shuddering breath. “Don’t leave me,” she murmurs, voice thick. “Don’t you dare ever leave me like that again.”

Michiru swallows hard, staring into her past, present, and future all wrapped up in Haruka’s eyes. She laces her fingers with Haruka’s and places their hands over her heart. “I won’t,” she whispers.

It’s a vow, a promise, and an absolution all in one.

IV.

Of course, it would have been too much to ask for the happily ever after to come so suddenly; right after that comes Hotaru and Mistress 9 and Sailor Saturn and everything wrapped up in that for another few agonizing weeks of keeping up the charade that there was some universe in which Haruka and Michiru and Uranus and Neptune didn’t completely live for each other.

Michiru and Haruka have effectively been in a relationship long before either of them ever admitted it, but the first time--their first time--is the day that they leave Tokyo after witnessing Sailor Moon’s true power, driving aimlessly in Haruka's car. They take the roads they wanted to take. They follow no route or map. And when the familiar exhaustion catches up with them, they check into the next hotel they find.

It’s pedestrian, little more than a place to sleep, but after all, it’s not really been about the hotel.

An air of inevitability hangs heavy around them as they put their bags down and settle in, and finally Michiru can’t handle it anymore.

“Haruka,” she says. “Could you help me unclasp my necklace?”

It’s a completely obvious move and Haruka has to know it, but she steps up anyway, accepting, Michiru thinks, the excuse to touch her.

Haruka has excellent hands and long, elegant pianists’ fingers, but she takes a few tries, skittering around against the delicate clasp and the soft skin of Michiru’s neck, until finally, she just exhales slowly, rests her chin on Michiru's shoulder, and whispers, "Sorry...I just...need a moment."

Michiru doesn’t know if she should laugh or cry or both. And her heart, which had already been perilously gooey, melts entirely, spreading mush throughout her entire body. If Haruka needed a moment? Hell, she could have as many moments as she needed, because the truth is that they were never even supposed to have this in the first place.

It's a wonder that the world hasn't ended.

And that they're alive.

And that they're together.

They don't have to rush. There's no need. They have each other, and things have somehow turned out okay, and what is there to rush?

V.

Weeks later, Haruka’s arms wrap around Michiru from behind. “Trust me when I say you look as perfect as you did five minutes ago,” she murmurs in Michiru’s ear, sending tingles down her spine, “and when I say that if anything happens, you’ll see it coming. Now that I’ve covered both possibilities, can you put away your mirror and join me?”

Michiru sighs and sets the Deep Aqua Mirror on her lap, reaching up to stroke the side of Haruka’s face. “You’re right, of course.”

“I know I’m right. You should go for a swim. Don’t you think you’ve earned it?”

“Perhaps in a minute,” Michiru says, gaze drifting out at the pool in front of her. She’s not particularly sure where exactly this hotel is—just that it’s not Tokyo, and that she’s with Haruka, and that those are supposed to be the important parts. “You go ahead,” she says. “I’ll be right behind you.”

Haruka doesn’t budge. “If there’s trouble, you’ll sense it. I know you will.”

Michiru looks evenly at Haruka. Her hair is tousled as usual, she makes her swimwear look amazing, as usual. But it occurs to her then: Haruka’s eyebrows are raised, her eyes are shining, there’s a half smile on her face. Haruka looks eager and relaxed. She looks _happy_.

And Michiru tucks the Mirror into her bag, putting her trust in Haruka, willing to do anything to just preserve that expression. “Okay,” she says, getting up, “you convinced me. Lead the way.”

VI.

Sometimes Michiru can’t help but feel incredibly selfish to have everything she has.

But then there are nights like this. Hot, endless summer nights with Michiru on top of Haruka, skin on skin, damp with sweat and exhausted. Michiru drags her tongue along the underside of Haruka’s throat, and Haruka’s moan sounds it’s being ripped out of the core of her being, and she gives Michiru this look like Michiru’s the most precious thing that’s ever existed across thousands of years and endless planets and entire solar systems, and Michiru realizes just how foolish she was to once think that she could have had it any other way.

VII.

Michiru's parents solidly Do Not Approve of Haruka, and while this in no way surprises her, there's still a lingering sense of disappointment. She can't exactly put her finger on why; she had, quite frankly, given up on her parents years earlier. Even so, some small part of her had been holding out, wondering if maybe her parents would come around once they saw just how she is with Haruka.

No such luck.

But she does have family obligations, and there is no way that she’s ever again going to brave time with her family without Haruka by her side. While they both support each other and mutually brace each other for such events, Michiru knows ahead of time exactly how the evening will go: her father will make some disparaging remark about Haruka’s hobbies, and her mother will subtly insult something about Haruka’s appearance, and Michiru will spend the whole night fuming and moderating the conversation like it’s the world's most passive-aggressive ping-pong game, and Haruka, of course, will be nothing less than a perfectly charming and chivalrous gentleman, which will only add to Michiru’s fury.

Haruka, at least, never appears to take it too personally. "It's strange that they objected the most strongly to the racing tonight," she says matter-of-factly in the car on the way back to their apartment after one awkward semi-annual forced family meal. "There's quite a lot about me to judge."

"They likely picked something at random," Michiru replies, gazing out the window. "We know that they’re never going to think you’re good enough for them." In the ensuing silence, Michiru realizes that she's catching Haruka in the crossfire of angst. "I'm sorry," she sighs. "It's nothing personal about you."

"No offense taken," Haruka says, still sounding as cheerful as could be expected. “At least we got visiting them out of the way for the next few months.”

Michiru reaches out and covers Haruka's hand on the gearshift. "I wish they could know," she says softly, "just how often you've saved me. Just how often you've saved the whole world. Honestly, sometimes I think you're the only worthwhile person on this entire planet."

Haruka flips her hand so she's squeezing Michiru's. "Hey," she says, "don't sell yourself short. Don't forget that you live on this planet too."

" _Haruka_ ," Michiru says, but she can't stop the corner of her mouth from quirking up, and sliding her gaze over to Haruka, she catches the exact same expression on her face as well. She closes her eyes and relaxes against the seat, almost asleep until a sharpness in the air catches her attention.

Sitting up, she realizes that Haruka has taken her to the ocean, cruising along the beach, instinctively sensing exactly what Michiru needs in the moment.

She looks out over the waves crashing in the moonlight, and remembers a young girl whose dream was once nothing more than doing this with the great Haruka Tenoh, and she smiles for that young girl—both for what she lost, and, most importantly, for what she’s gained.

Michiru leans back against the seat and gazes at Haruka, so strong and assured. She weighs the words in her brain, tests them against her tongue, and finally whispers into the wind, “I love you.”

“Hm?” Haruka looks over, eyebrows raised, still half-smiling, obviously having missed it.

Michiru just smiles demurely and gazes out over the sea. It’s nothing, after all, that Haruka doesn’t already know.

VIII.

Michiru has been picking up occasional sparks of dark energy, but nothing major has come up since leaving Tokyo. Most of what she sees disappears as quickly as it appears.

One afternoon, she and Haruka decide to fight a minor daimon outside of Osaka, one of the few leftovers wandering around from the Deathbusters, mostly because it’s close and they’re right there.

It’s a relatively quick fight. The biggest challenge isn’t the daimon, but rather a summer squall that erupts halfway through, thoroughly drenching all of the combatants. The daimon, some bastardized version of what appeared to have once been an air conditioning unit, can send annoying breezes their way, but it doesn’t appear particularly harmful.

At least not until a well-timed breeze from the daimon couples with an intense gust from the ongoing storm and nearly sends Neptune over a railing.

Honestly, Michiru isn’t too concerned with the situation; they’re not too far up, below is only the sea, and throwing Sailor Neptune into the ocean is a battle plan that’s frankly doomed from the start.

But it still doesn’t stop Uranus from hurtling across the field, grabbing onto Neptune, and all but throwing her back on solid ground. “Are you okay?” Uranus barks.

“I’m fine! The daimon!” Neptune yells back, the only thing really wrong with her being a bit of a dizzy headrush caused from being flipped upright so quickly.

After that, with Uranus mad, the daimon’s seconds left on Earth are limited; Uranus easily shatters it into pieces with a well-timed World Shaking.

Once the daimon has fully dissolved, there’s silence, always that strange silence after defeating an enemy. Finally, Haruka snorts. “I can’t believe that thing thought it could use _wind_ as a weapon against me,” she says disdainfully, flicking her wet bangs out of her eyes. Only someone with as much knowledge of Haruka as Michiru has would be able to tell just how much tension Haruka’s hiding.

Michiru wraps her arms around herself and shivers a bit as the rain pours down. “No match for you, of course,” she says.

“Or you,” Haruka adds instantly. She glances at her. “Are you okay?” she asks, suddenly serious.

Michiru raises her eyebrows. “Whatever happened to leaving the one in trouble behind?” she says with a half-smile, trying to play it off as a joke.

“Oh, ha ha,” Haruka says, then adds quietly, “Save the gallows humor for someone who doesn’t care about you as much as I do.”

Michiru softens and sighs. “Let’s go get cleaned up,” she says, interlacing her fingers with Haruka’s for the trek back.

Later that evening, Haruka takes Michiru up against the wall of the shower, steam and shampoo lingering in the air. Haruka's arm wraps securely around Michiru's stomach, and when Michiru comes, face pressed against the tile, body shuddering, Haruka keeps her upright and whispers comforting things in her ear about holding on and never letting her go. And as soon as Michiru's back in control, she turns around, fists her hand in damp blonde hair, and kisses Haruka so soundly that letting go doesn't even seem like a possibility anymore.

IX.

Michiru knows that someday their relative peace will come to an end.

They’re soldiers; they were born to be soldiers, and will most likely die in battle.

It doesn’t frighten Michiru, though. Very little scares her anymore. She figures that as long as Haruka’s by her side, with Haruka holding her hand, it’ll be all right.

Michiru wants a lot of things, and sometimes she wishes things were different.

But if things were different, she wouldn’t have Haruka.

And Haruka is always enough.


End file.
